


Sapphire and Moonlight

by Carmenlire



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alec Lightwood Speaks Spanish, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Confident Alec Lightwood, Fluff and Smut, Happy Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Language Kink, POV Magnus Bane, Panty Kink, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-14 13:48:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20193289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carmenlire/pseuds/Carmenlire
Summary: Magnus has a moment to think that he’s never seen Alec so relaxed. He loves his boy to death but it’s a statement of fact that his husband was wound tighter than most toys.Not now it seems.No, looking across the table, Magnus watches as Alec takes another sip of his Rioja and seems to sink into his seat a little further. It’s their first time in Spain and as soon as they’d crossed the portal into their private villa, it had seemed like a weight had slid off Alec’s shoulders.Or, Alec loves Spain almost as much as he loves Magnus.





	Sapphire and Moonlight

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks to Amanda and Carla (everylosttouch and iwillstayalive on ao3, respectively) for their inspiration and help with this piece!!!
> 
> Song: Senorita by Shawn Mendes and Camila Cabello

Magnus has a moment to think that he’s never seen Alec so _relaxed_. He loves his boy to death but it’s a statement of fact that his husband was wound tighter than most toys.

Not now it seems.

No, looking across the table, Magnus watches as Alec takes another sip of his Rioja and seems to sink into his seat a little further. It’s their first time in Spain and as soon as they’d crossed the portal into their private villa, it had seemed like a weight had slid off Alec’s shoulders.

Spending most of the day at the beach, they’d decided to get ready for dinner and now here they are at a small restaurant enjoying fresh seafood and a bottle-- or two-- of wine. Alec had surprised him once again when he’d immediately ordered a glass of _Finca Allende Aurus_ and made his steady way through a few glasses before ordering another bottle in perfect Spanish. 

Magnus had assumed that he would be ordering for the two of them but as soon as the waiter had come over that first time, Alec had discussed the menu with him in fluent Spanish, accent and all. While he supposes he shouldn’t be all that taken aback, it’s obvious that Alec is not only comfortable but happy to talk in the language. 

Thinking about it now, it makes a different kind of sense why he’d only heard Alec speak a few scant words but only when he was so exhausted he was mostly unconscious. It had only been a time or two but occasionally, Alec liked to call him _cariño_ or _bebé_ right before he fell asleep. Magnus had thought those the only words he knew but it’s obvious that’s not the case now.

As the waiter comes back to their table, Magnus takes a sip of his own sangria. His brow climbs nearly to his hairline as he hears Alec talk to the waiter as he lets him inspect the bottle before pouring another glass.

_“Gracias,”_ Alec says warmly and brings the glass up to his lips with a little hum of contentment.

The waiter smiles and it’s obvious that he’s very glad not to be dealing with tourists who had no idea how to speak the language as he asks, _“¿Todo es de su agrado?”_ Although Magnus supposes his good will could also be the fact that the wine Alec’s drinking is over a hundred euros a bottle.

Alec doesn’t hesitate before he reassures him, _“Es perfecto. Gracias otra vez.”_

As the waiter leaves, Magnus smiles over at Alec and he only lets a little bit of his surprise bleed through. Mostly, he’s teasing.

“You seem awfully comfortable there, Alexander. If I had known how much you’d enjoy Palma de Mallorca, I would’ve whisked us away for a trip here months ago.”

Alec takes one last bite of food and sets his fork down with a sigh. “I love it here, even if I haven’t been to Spain since I was a teenager.”

“You’ve been here before,” Magnus asks, with just a touch of incredulity.

Shrugging, Alec reaches for Magnus’s hand where it’s resting on the table between them. He runs an absent thumb over his wedding band as he offers, “You don’t need to sound so disbelieving. You know that I’ve visited institutes all over the world. But, Spain does hold a special place in my heart,” he admits.

“Oh?” Magnus’s voice is soft as he prompts Alec. While the two of them had confided a lot to each other-- and Magnus was always eager to learn more about his love-- it’s obvious that Alec is in a good mood and he’s loathe to do anything that could jeopardize that. 

It’s a painful fact for both of them that their pasts are littered with landmines.

Luckily, Alec just relaxes back into his seat as he toys with the stem of his wine glass. 

“My mother’s family was from Spain. We used to take the summers and come to their estate right outside of Madrid. It was a little seaside town-- not unlike here-- and while my parents labelled it a training opportunity, we all knew it was a chance to get away from New York’s heat for a couple of months and away from the prying eyes of the Institute.”

Magnus smiles a little, thinking, “I like imagining you running around a little coastal town. It’s charmingly unexpected.”

“Don’t get me wrong,” Alec replies with a self deprecating laugh. “I spent mornings training outside, sparring with Jace and a few of the household staff who were my age. Evenings were spent with my grandfather--” and Magnus notes that while there’s a wince accompanying the words, Alec’s eyes betray fondness as he continues, “And he’d pour us both a glass of scotch-- which I _hated_\-- and we would move on to the more refined qualities anyone at my level would need to know.”

“The infamous dance lessons,” Magnus asks with a quirked brow.

Laughing sheepishly, Alec brings the hand not holding Magnus’s up to rub the back of his neck. “Yeah, dancing and conversation and culture-- we read three books a week and discussed them for hours after dinner. He was a hard man but fair and I miss him.”

“Oh,” Magnus realizes. “That must be why you stopped going when you were a teenager?”

Alec ducks his head in a jerk of a nod. “Yeah, he was old-- by shadowhunter standards, anyway. He was a stubborn man, though, and no matter that he had a busted leg from a mission gone wrong in his thirties, he still liked to prove that he was just as capable as anyone else. The old bastard was on the roof trying to fix a few loose shingles-- don’t ask me why considering he was rich as Croesus and had over a dozen staff he could’ve asked-- and he ended up falling and breaking his neck.”

“Well, shit,” Magnus replies succinctly.

“Yeah,” Alec agrees. “It hit mom pretty hard and she ended up selling the family estate before the next summer had rolled around. While the two had fought off and on-- I only knew because I was the oldest but I don’t think Izzy or Max picked up on it-- Spain was really the only time I think mom felt free. She wasn’t the Head of an Institute or an ex Circle member there; She was just Maryse. She was a little less--”

“Abrasive,” Magnus offers dryly.

“Yeah,” Alec says softly. “She was more of a mom during those trips than I can ever remember her being in New York.”

“It sounds like a good memory,” Magnus says lowly, finishing off his sangria. “Is that where you learned Spanish?”

There’s a glint in his eye but Alec meets his gaze in a challenge with his own grin that edges toward wicked.

_“Oh, ¿no habías notado eso?_ I don’t know why you’re surprised that I can speak it. You’ve met Izzy, after all.”

Magnus just sends him an arch look. “That’s your sister, darling. I’ve never heard you speak Spanish before. Really, I’ve never heard you speak another language at all. I thought Isabelle was the only one who spoke it in your family.”

Alec’s voice is dry as he replies, “I speak twelve languages, babe.” He winces a little. “Though my Korean is only at a conversational level.”

“Twelve,” Magnus repeats dumbly.

Alec grins. “An even dozen,” he says proudly. “I grew up speaking English and Spanish between one word and the next. Most shadowhunters know three or four but with the added expectation that I’d become the Head of the Institute one day, I started language tutors before I went to the Academy.”

“Aren’t you just full of surprises.”

“I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow, don’t I?”

Magnus doesn’t respond besides a quiet smile and the two of them enjoy the warm evening air for a while longer. Magnus orders another glass of sangria-- and another-- while Alec makes steady progress through his second bottle. 

The low light glints off the deep red of Alec’s wine and when he tips his glass back for a final swallow, Magnus’s gaze catches on his mouth. Alec sees the direction of his look and his eyes darken even as he stands, using his grip on Magnus’s hand to pull him up, too.

“What are you doing, Alexander?”

_“Es una hermosa velada y quiero bailar con mi esposo.”_

Surprised, Magnus follows Alec to the very small clear space. There’s a lone musician in the open-air restaurante playing a guitar. It’s something slow with an easy rhythm and as Alec draws him close, Magnus closes his eyes, sinking into the moment.

Alec’s a wonderful dancer. He’d been surprised that first time he’d taken him to Pandemonium only to find that once Alec decided to let go, he could _move_. It was more than that, though. At their wedding last year, Magnus couldn’t hold back his surprise when Alec pulled him into an expert waltz.

Like everything else seems to come back to, he’d learned that Alec had taken extensive etiquette lessons growing up. That, combined with his natural athleticism, had combined to make Alec a goddamn menace when he was in the right mood.

Like tonight.

It’s late enough so that there are only a couple of occupied tables. Deciding to ride this wave as long as Alec’s into it, Magnus keeps his eyes closed and tucks his head under his husband's. Nosing along his deflect rune, laying a bare kiss against the pulse at his throat, he feels more than hears Alec hum in contentment.

Not quite a moan but they are in public, after all-- and while they’d both been delighted to learn that wasn’t necessarily a deterrent-- Magnus thinks it’s time they head back to the villa they’ve rented for the duration of their stay.

Tilting his head up until he can bite Alec’s earlobe, Magnus whispers, “_Llévame a la cama, cariño_.”

He feels the shudder that rolls through Alec at the low words and Magnus tucks away the knowledge of just how affected his husband became when he spoke Spanish, too.

He figures it’s only fair since hearing Alec speak with such lazy confidence had climbed very high up on his favorites list as soon as he’d heard the lilting tones, the way his New York accent gave way to the more sonorous tones demanded of a romantic language.

When Alec pulls back, he does so just enough to meet Magnus’s eyes. And Magnus can’t resist.

He pulls Alec infinitesimally closer until he can kiss those wine-stained lips. He tastes the full-bodied red that had made Alec’s cheeks so delightfully flushed and his husband immediately opens for him, pulling him deeper until they’re both out of breath and half out of their minds.

When the kiss ends, the music is still playing and when he takes a quick glance around the mostly empty restaurant, it’s to find that no one’s paying them the least bit of attention.

Deciding to take that for the blessing it was, Magnus urges Alec off the makeshift dance floor and unto the sidewalk a few yards away. With an absent wave of his hand, he makes sure there are enough euros laying on their table for a _very_ generous tip and it’s the work of a moment to whisk Alec into a small alley between one business and the next.

Thinking of summoning a portal, every thought flies out of his head as Alec leans into him. The wall is rough at his back but it serves as a wonderful counterpoint to the long line of heat in front of him. Sliding one thigh between his, Alec’s breath ghosts over Magnus’s lips as he says, _"Me vuelves loco, ¿lo sabías?”_

“Show me.”

Magnus has barely voiced the words when Alec catches his lips in a searing kiss. It spins out for long, hazy moments and when Magnus hitches a leg around Alec’s hip for better leverage, they both groan at the contact. Distantly, he thinks that he’d never been so happy to leave his shirt mostly unbuttoned as it grants Alec quick and complete access and when he spreads a hand over his chest, sweeping it down until it rests just above his belt, Magnus is fairly sure he’s losing his mind but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

It takes more effort than Magnus knew he had but Alec eventually pulls back and when he opens his eyes it’s to see Alec’s have darkened and the intensity in his stare is enough to make Magnus give serious thought to just casting a glamour over the two of them and picking right back up from where they’d just left off.

But then Alec has to go and soften the moment, reaching for Magnus’s hand and raising it up to his mouth for the gentlest kiss against his wedding ring and it makes something in him melt, the raw affection and overwhelming devotion on Alec’s face.

A portal opens and they step through without wasting a moment or letting go of each other’s hands. It wasn’t a conscious choice but when they enter the villa it’s via the bedroom and Alec huffs out a laugh against the back of Magnus’s neck as he wraps his arms around him from behind.

“Impatient are we,” Alec murmurs and the whisper of his breath against his bare skin makes Magnus shudder in his hold.

Their villa is on the edge of town, oceanfront, and the breeze blows through the open french doors, gives everything a deliciously brazen air.

“Just don’t want to waste a moment, _cariño_,” Magnus manages to say and it takes more brain power than it should to recall that particular moniker but it’s more than worth it when Alec fairly growls against his neck and moves them both toward the bed.

The breath is knocked from his chest as Magnus finds himself on his back, Alec staring down at him with eyes that make Magnus think he never needs to breathe again, not when he has everything he’ll ever need standing in front of him.

Blinking slowly up at Alec, his glamour disintegrates between one moment and the next as Alec leans over him, hands caging him in. He hears Alec’s sharp intake of breath as their eyes meet but then his own are closing as his husband leans in and kisses the shell of his ear, his cheek, the dip of his chin, before finally murmuring against his lips, “I love you so much, _amor mío.”_

He doesn’t give Magnus a chance to respond as he closes that last bit of distance and the kiss is different than it was in the alley just a few minutes before. It’s slow and deep and so damn good that Magnus feels his toes curl against the plush bedding. A noise wraps its way around his throat, comes out a choked off keen when Alec pulls away for a split second only to close his mouth over his pulse, biting down and sucking before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Oh, _God_, Alexander,” and Magnus doesn’t know what language the words come out but it must be one of those dozen because he feels Alec’s grin against his throat before he does it all over again until Magnus is writhing under him. When Alec brings one hand up and buries it in his hair, pulling just a little as he tilts Magnus’s head up for more room to work, Magnus groans long and low, hips rolling up to meet Alec in a bare parody of what he really wants.

Sliding his hands down the wide expanse of Alec’s back until his nails dig crescents into the small of his back, Magnus grins wickedly as Alec groans hoarsely against his neck. He urges him closer and it devolves for a few minutes as Alec grips his thigh, bringing it up to wrap one leg around his waist until they’re grinding against each other, slow, filthy, thrusts that do so much for Magnus but just not enough.

Sparks drag down his spine and when Alec pulls back, starts kissing down his front, Magnus feels the loss in his goddamn chest.

“Come back here, darling, _lo estabas haciendo tan bien_,” Magnus tries desperately but Alec just laughs against his stomach and when Magnus looks down, he sees Alec staring up at him with eyes blown hazy with lust and mouth bitten red.

“Don’t worry, _bebé_, I’ve got you.” Alec’s voice is hoarse, low like the words are being scraped from his throat and Magnus shudders at the promise laden in the tone.

It’s the work of a moment to shrug out of his shirt and Magnus sighs as he feels the cool sheets against his back. He feels Alec’s hands at his belt, taking care-- too much care, Magnus thinks with a groan-- and staying away from where Magnus wants him most.

Alec slowly starts to peel his jeans down and Magnus lifts his hips to make it easier-- he doesn’t want to waste a fucking second-- but Alec freezes with them halfway down his thighs. It takes him a moment to wonder why Alec had stopped so much progress but when he realizes, he relaxes against the bed and stares up at the ceiling with a satisfied grin.

“Like what you see?”

Alec doesn’t say anything, just bends down and nips at the jut of his hip bone, nosing along the the edge of blue lace. His breath ghosts over Magnus’s cock before he leans in and sucks through the lace until it’s damp and the suction, Alec’s wonderful mouth, is a teasing hint that makes Magnus lose his breath.

He lets off after a moment before gently closing his mouth over the satin bow at the front, giving it a light tug that hardly does more than just remind Magnus of how close Alec is-- so close but so goddamn far away-- before he makes short work of the rest of his jeans. 

And then Magnus is sprawled in their bed in nothing _but_ the lace and Alec sits back as he studies him in the low light that filters through their sheer curtains. Magnus feels on display but it’s something he relishes-- the heat in Alec’s eyes, the possessive glint that neither have ever outright acknowledged but which both love, the warmth woven through, all of it making Magnus’s heart beat almost painfully in his chest.

_“Hermoso,”_ he hears Alec whisper and then he’s picking back up where he left off.

He kisses a trail down Magnus’s inner thigh, pausing here and there to bite and soothe, until he reaches his foot. Wrapping a hand around his ankle, Alec takes a moment to admire the nail polish that matches his fingers that matches the underwear.

“God, you’re killing me, _adorado.”_

Moonlight bounces off warm skin and the way Alec’s holding onto him grounds him, makes Magnus wish that the grip was a little harder, that it held just a bit more bite. 

He feels Alec nibble at the delicate bone of his ankle as he sweeps a thumb over the arch of his foot. It’s such a small touch but it sets every nerve ending firing, the entirety of Alec’s promise concentrated on the area and Magnus fairly startles when Alec switches course and instead kisses Magnus’s foot, closing his mouth over a toe and giving a leisurely suck that goes straight to Magnus’s cock, that has him arching off the bed as a shot of lust travels straight to his gut where it simmers there, waiting for whatever Alec does next.

Taking the reaction for the encouragement it is, Alec moves onto the other foot, repeating the process as one hand sweeps from ankle to the inside of Magnus’s thigh, rubbing soothing circles over the soft skin there.

Turning Magnus over, he almost sobs as he finally has the friction of the sheets against his aching cock. Slowly making his way back up Magnus’s body, Alec licks a strip over the back of his thigh, bites into the meat of his ass through sheer lace.

Magnus shudders, wishes desperately that Alec would move just a few inches over, would rip the goddamn underwear away and stop teasing. He can already feel how amazing Alec’s mouth would be, wrapping around his rim, fucking him in a way that never fails to scorch his insides.

Alas, Alec pulls back and cool air ghosts over him, makes his fever burn brighter. He hears the rustle of clothing that means his husband is finally undressing and then Alec keeps travelling up until he’s a long line of warmth over him. Magnus sinks into the mattress, thrusting against the bed in little aborted movements, wiggling his hips in an effort to get Alec to move, to do something, anything, but Alec doesn’t take the hint.

He feels him, hard and hot against his ass but Alec seems content to kiss over Magnus’s shoulders, stubble scratching softly over his back, and Magnus finds himself torn between rutting into the bed sheets and arching his back to chase Alec.

Alec peppers words against his spine and they’re so low that Magnus only catches a few.

_“Mi adoración,”_ Alec’s voice is so deep that it buries itself in Magnus’s chest and a part of him that’s growing increasingly hazy thinks that he could get off just from this, just from Alec pinning him to the bed and whispering against his skin in those languid tones. _“No sabes lo que me haces.”_

Running a hand over sapphire lace, Alec’s move is impossibly deep as he rasps, “I like these. I love when you surprise me with lace and silk and satin. Do you think of me,” he asks hoarsely. “Do you think of me when you slide them on, when the fabric hugs your cock and ass the way I want to?”

“Yes,” he gasps. “_Yes_, Alexander.”

He feels Alec grin against his back and it’s sharp before he hooks his thumbs in the waistband and drags them down and goddamn him, but goosebumps erupt on Magnus’s skin as the soft material slides down overheated flesh but not before it catches on the head of his cock.

He’s startled when he feels Alec’s finger rub over his rim before easing inside and he has no idea when Alec had the time or range to reach for the lube but he’s blissfully grateful as Alec lets him get used to the first digit just a moment before he withdraws and comes back with two.

Spreading his thighs with one of his own, Alec fucks him open slowly, making little noises of encouragement when Magnus tries to move back on those fingers, clenching down when Alec hits a particularly sweet spot.

“Just fuck me already,” Magnus whines and the words come out high, betrays the ledge Magnus has been teetering on, and they take more oxygen than they should so that he gasps as Alec’s teeth worry the juncture of where his neck meets his shoulder as he adds a third finger.

“But I’m having so much fun,” Alec says and God, Magnus can just hear the smirk in his voice, knows that in the same way he loves being the object of Alec’s lust, Alec gets off on reducing Magnus to nothing but a fucking puddle, his for the taking.

Biting his lip hard enough to draw blood, Magnus moans as Alec starts hitting his prostate every third thrust or so and he chases that sensation, loses himself in the way sparks claw up his spine with each roll of his hips.

At one point, Alec stops and lets Magnus fuck himself on his hand and he’s shameless, chasing his own pleasure as one hand trails down to wrap around his cock--

But just as he gets a hand around himself, Alec removes his own from where he’d been working Magnus open, knocking Magnus’s off and the feeling of being empty is almost too much. 

Magnus sobs out a breath, desperately pleading, _“Please_, Alexander.”

Alec grabs his hip, pushes him into the bed before leaning over him. Like this, there’s no leverage and when his husband-- his beautiful, darling husband-- braces himself and guides his cock to Magnus, all he can do is _take it_.

Taking his time, Alec finally bottoms out after what feels like an eternity and Magnus wants to do _something_ but Alec pins him to the mattress and stays there.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t shift. He seems perfectly content to lay over Magnus forever, driving him insane. Magnus could almost think that Alec’s unaffected but he hears the rasp of his breath against the back of the neck, feels the tension it’s taking Alec to hold back.

Finally, Alec moves. He withdraws slowly before pushing back in, setting up an excruciating pace that has Magnus seeing stars at the thick drag of Alec’s cock in him, at the way his pace lets every sensation light him up, one lapping over another until Magnus can’t take a breath without moaning Alec’s name.

_“Dios, te siento rico, amor,”_ Alec murmurs against sweat-slick skin. “I could do this for hours, for days, until you can’t think of your own name. Until all you know is mine.”

Magnus wants to say that he’s already there, that his world has tilted, focusing until the only thing that matters is Alec, the way he knows just what he likes. The words get trapped in his throat though, punched out of him as Alec shifts angles and hits his prostate head on for two, three, four thrusts in a row.

Running his hand up Magnus’s back, Alec fists his hand in Magnus’s hair and _pulls_ and the sensation goes right to his gut, makes his gasp like a dying man as he clenches down around Alec.

After that, Magnus loses track of things. Alec’s pace gradually increases until he’s pounding into Magnus and Magnus knows that he’ll have bruises at his hips and fuck, just the thought of wearing Alec’s marks almost pushes him over the edge.

_“Me encanta la forma en que me tomas,”_ Alec drawls against Magnus’s shoulder. “I love the way you fuck me, the way you let me fuck you.”

Magnus shudders at the words but Alec doesn’t let up. “You’re so hot, _fuck_, so tight around me, Magnus. I never get used to it.”

Alec uses his grip to urge Magnus up and Magnus whines at the bare-second loss before he realizes that Alec’s given him room to maneuver, implicit permission to chase his own pleasure.

The realization has only a moment to sink in before Alec’s wrapping a firm hand around his cock. Magnus follows the dueling pleasure, fucking Alec’s fist before moving back onto his husband’s cock and it doesn’t take more than a dozen thrusts before he’s stilling and spilling across ivory linen.

Groaning as Magnus contracts around him, Alec’s mouth closes over his shoulder and he bites, _hard_, as he comes, fucking Magnus through it until he’s too sensitive.

He doesn’t tell Alec to stop, though, and the pleasure has a razor’s edge of pain that stalls the breath in Magnus’s chest, that makes him want to bear down and take all Alec can give him.

He’s half hard again by the time Alec slows, all but collapsing against Magnus.

The sound of the ocean drifts through the room, over their ragged breathing. Magnus doesn’t move-- doesn’t think he could even if he wanted to-- and it takes long minutes before their hearts stop racing. 

When Alec pulls out, they both moan at the loss and it doesn’t take long before Magnus feels Alec’s come start dripping out of him.

He shivers when his husband reaches out, rubbing it into his skin in a way that makes Magnus feel both debauched and viciously satisfied.

Alec kisses the dip of his spine, laying a saccharine trail up until he reaches Magnus’s neck. Falling until he’s on his side, he rubs Magnus’s back in a slow, sweeping motion. He floats on the wave of Alec’s warm affection, the heat banked to a steady glow now.

Just when he feels the edge of sleep beckoning, Alec moves closer, nosing along his hairline as he murmurs, _“Eres mi corazón, Magnus. Mi propia vida.” _

Turning his head, Magnus slowly opens gold eyes to see Alec staring at him with something indefinable in his gaze. It sears into him as only his love can and he smiles, just a little, as he softly replies, “And you’re mine, Alexander. _Te amo, cariño.”_

He watches Alec grin, the way Magnus’s words make his face light up and Magnus thanks every deity and demon for the thousandth time that they found each other and made it here, to this point, to this little seaside villa where Magnus thinks he could drown in the love pouring off Alec in waves.

Oh, but what a way to go, he thinks dizzily.

With a negligent wave of his hand, Magnus changes the sheets and cleans them up. Turning onto his side, he lifts an arm for Alec to come closer and hums as he feels his husband tuck his head against his neck, as Alec hitches a leg over his hip and hugs him close.

Running an absent hand through Alec’s hair, Magnus kisses the top of his head and lets sleep pull him under.

He barely catches the words whispered against his throat, the kiss against his pulse so light that he almost misses it. 

_“Mi vida, mi cielo."_

**Author's Note:**

> Catch me on tumblr or twitter @carmenlire!


End file.
